


Thing 1 and Thing 2

by Waddler



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: But Not Much, Drabbles, Maby some plot, Non-Linear Narrative, Rating May Change, Shenanigans, cloning, double trouble, may eventually include paperhat, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 05:56:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13734573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waddler/pseuds/Waddler
Summary: “W-well, wh-what next? Do, uhh, y-you n-need to take m-my, or y-your, no, my vitals?”This seemed to snap him, wait, no, not him, wait, or was it, you know what, never mind, he would just call him thing 1.





	Thing 1 and Thing 2

There were very few things that Flug thought were impossible. That list was shorted immensely when he started working for Black Hat. And now, the list had been put into a fucking paper shredder, because he had just managed to properly clone himself. He looked at the artificial version lying on the table and took a moment to realize just how fascinating is was that he managed to take genetic material and rearrange the molecules into functional cells, and that those cells made tissue, which made organs, which made organ systems, which made _him_. He knew that he would be perfectly capable of creating an embryo of himself, but to be able to turn the basic components of a human and make something living was astounding. He had checked the pulse, and now all he had to do was check the other vitals, and if the clone had sentience and the same memories, and the fact that it was beginning to stir was a good sign.

* * *

 

Flug opened his eyes, and was instantly assaulted by lights that seemed far too bright for his taste, causing him to quint in discomfort. He had no idea what had just happened. The last thing that came to mind was a sort of giddiness, and the feeling of having done everything right. He had placed himself in the chamber, and then, well, nothing. He bolted upright, certain that the machine had malfunctioned, but that couldn’t be right! Not only was he completely positive that he had all of the calculation correct, but he had also taken more safety procedures than he had on any other project. Plus, not a single thing felt wrong with him. He began frantically checking himself for any sign on injury.

“Oh, dear Satan, what did Demencia do? When I find her, she is dead!”

His thinking was cut short when he heard a loud series of snaps next to his ears. He shot a glare to the source of the noise, feeling sure that it was just the hybrid coming back to torment him some more, but his brain came to a halt when he saw, to his shock, himself standing directly in front of him.

He gapped at himself, not sure what to do. Oh, this was odd, this was very, very odd. He could easily tell that he as in the other him was wearing a huge smile. Finally, the gears in his brain seemed to start back up, and he realized that the machine actually worked. It _actually **worked!!**_ He could feel and ear-splitting grin form on his face, and he went to put a hand over his mouth, but he quickly realized that he wasn’t wearing his bag, and his newfound excitement quickly turned to panic. He put his hands into his hair and pulled, trying to ground himself enough to avoid the quickly rising anxiety attack, but relief quickly flooded his system as the other, or rather, original him handed him a spare bag and pair of goggles.

He put the bag on so fast he nearly ripped it, and happily breathed in the smell of paper, before putting on the goggles, much calmer this time. He carefully swung his legs over the side of the table, before looking at himself and clearing his throat awkwardly.

“W-well, wh-what next? Do, uhh, y-you n-need to take m-my, or y-your, no, _my_ vitals?”

This seemed to snap him, wait, no, not him, wait, or was it, you know what, never mind, he would just call him thing 1. He internally chuckled at how much that sounded like a thing his boss would say, and watched as thing 1 finally managed to gather his wits with a small chuckle, likely having just had the same thought as himself.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I need to do.” He could hear himself mutter under his breath as he went towards the more medically oriented side of the lab. He wiggled his butt off of the cloning table and proceeded to follow himself across the room. He sat on the table, and removed his lab coat, putting his arm out when thing 1 brought the blood pressure cuff over to him.

* * *

 Thirty minutes, a lot of fangirling, and a fair amount of aggravation later, both Flugs stood outside of Black Hat’s door, each having a small number drawn on the rim of their goggles. They looked back and forth between one another, before reaching out and knocking nervously at the exact same time.

“Come in”

Well, there was no going back now. Hesitantly, the one nearest the door handle, thing 1, reached out and turned it. They walked in, their footsteps completely in sync. The eldritch let out a tired sigh, and without looking up from his paperwork asked "What is it Flug?”

“W-well sir” the clones said in tandem, only to cover their mouthed, and squeak at the same time. Their boss looked up from his work, confused as to why he was hearing Flug speak form multiple places, but upon looking up, was greeted with quite the puzzling sight. He looked back and forth between the two versions of his doctor, his confusion evident in his expression.

“What in the blazes did you do?” It was soft, and spoken quietly. Their superior was obviously perplexed and amazed at what they, or he, or whoever had accomplished.

“W-well, sir- Oh, sorry,- Oh, you can tal- No, you-”

“Shut up” The eldritch’s harsh words easily cut through the synced blabbering of the frightened men, and they simultaneously replied with a quick and quiet “yes Jefe” before looking at their equally worn out red converse.

The demon pushed his chair out, and walked around his desk to examine the Flug on his left. He could see a small, white 2 printed neatly on the outside of his goggles. He reached for the man’s chin, and lifted it, exposing his neck, and leaning in before lightly flicking his snake-like tongue against the sensitive flesh, drawing a satisfying squeak from the man. Although the eldritch had never paid that much attention to the way his employees smelled, he was certain that this human smelled like Flug.

He released the man from his grip, before walking over to the other bagged human in front of him. This one, he saw, also had a number neatly printed on his goggles with white ink, but he bore the letter 1, instead. He grabbed the man’s chin the same way he had done to the first, and tilted his head to the side before repeating the flicking action with his tongue, and drawing yet another equally as satisfying squeak from the second man. Yes, he concluded, they both smelled like Flug. Chemicals, sweat, fear, paper, and a little something indescribable that all humans had unique to themselves. He also made another decision in that moment.

“You two, get the cam-bot ready. We’ve got a commercial to shoot!”

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by the fic Disposable by GudufuFruit.  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/13725996


End file.
